When the radiance finally faded, it revealed a young man with a striking and undeniably confident presence. His short, slightly tousled golden hair reflected the ambient light as if it were made of pure gold, each strand shimmering softly as it framed a handsome, sharp-featured face with well-defined features. A smile rested on his lips—a smile filled with carefree arrogance, as though the entire world were something he had conquered long ago.
His eyes, a deep and intense crimson, shone with vitality and pride. There was an aura about him, the unmistakable air of someone fully aware of his own strength and who felt no need whatsoever to conceal it.
His torso was completely bare, revealing an athletic, perfectly sculpted body, with harmoniously defined muscles—proof not only of training, but of intrinsic power. Across his skin, red, tattoo-like patterns spread over his chest, abdomen, and arms, like ancient markings laden with meaning and authority.
Around his neck, Arthur wore a necklace made of pieces resembling fangs or polished bones, arranged in a rustic yet imposing fashion. His arms were partially protected by golden gauntlets of elegant and sturdy design, which blended seamlessly into the armor covering his waist and legs.
The lower half of his attire consisted of well-fitted golden plates, firmly protecting his hips and thighs, while a long red cloth flowed from his waist. Golden greaves and boots completed the ensemble.
"I would like to know how exactly you know all of this, Treyni," he said, opening a confident smile.
Treyni smiled back at him, gently and respectfully.
"We, the Dryads, received a warning through the Voice of the World, telling us that we should request support from a hero named Arthur who was in the capital of Blumund," she replied calmly.
The Voice of the World, huh? I'm certain that's not what really happened… Arthur thought, but he decided to set those questions aside for now.
"Treyni, are you hungry? Sit beside me," Arthur invited casually.
Treyni's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she soon broke into a broad, genuine smile.
"Since it's a request from Master Arthur, I will gladly comply!"
She sat down next to him, took a French fry from the plate, and began eating cheerfully, without the slightest hesitation.
Soon, the hall was filled with the rhythmic sounds of crunch, crunch, as the two of them ate peacefully, as if they were simply sharing an ordinary meal in an ordinary place.
Unlike them, however, the king, the ministers, and the nobles present were absolutely furious.
Those two were treating the royal palace as if it were their own home.
And yet, at the same time, they truly could not do absolutely anything about it.
Setting food and drink aside, there were still important matters that needed to be addressed.
"Once again, my name is Treyni. On behalf of the Dryads of the Great Forest of Jura, I humbly request your assistance in defeating the Orc Lord," Treyni declared once more, now with a solemn tone.
"Orc Lord?" the king repeated, utterly perplexed.
"The Dryads have confirmed the existence of an Orc Lord?!" Fuze immediately questioned, unable to hide his shock.
Treyni's words caused a genuine uproar throughout the hall.
The Orc Lord was an extremely rare and powerful member of the Orc race, endowed with high intelligence, appearing only once every few centuries.
He inherited the unique intrinsic skill Starved, which transformed his subordinates into a swarm of ravenous, deadly monsters capable of devouring everything in their path—including their own fallen comrades.
His army advanced like locusts, devastating and consuming everything it encountered.
What were they supposed to do?!
The king and his ministers fell into panic, completely losing their composure.
With the current strength of the Kingdom of Blumund, attempting to defeat an Orc Lord was nothing but a fantasy.
Treyni stood up and made a deep bow.
"I beg you, please—you must defeat the Orc Lord!"
All eyes immediately turned to Arthur.
At that critical moment, they had no choice but to place their final hope in him.
Arthur looked at Treyni and, with a calm smile, replied:
"Treyni, my dear Dryad, tell me a good reason why I should intervene in this situation."
Considering the timeline… if the Orc Lord is already moving through the Great Forest of Jura, logically the slime Rimuru should be dealing with him. Why should I get involved? Arthur thought.
The king and the ministers felt their hearts sink.
Why this sudden refusal?!
After all, this was an Orc Lord! He made no distinction between monsters and humans.
Everything was food to him!
Faced with Arthur's question, the dryad Treyni calmly picked up another French fry, took a relaxed bite, and replied:
"The Great Forest of Jura is destined to become your territory, Master Arthur. We, the Dryad race, are also destined to fall under your command. You will surely take action, won't you?"
My territory? The Dryads under my command? There's something very strange going on here…
Before Arthur could question her, Treyni added:
"At this very moment, the Orc Lord's army is devastating the Great Forest of Jura. Monsters and Majins are in grave danger. This includes many individuals whose destinies are deeply intertwined with yours. You will certainly intervene, won't you?"
Crunch!
After saying that, Treyni took the last French fry from the plate and bit into it happily, as if she hadn't just dropped a bomb of that magnitude.
So my assumption really was correct. Rimuru doesn't exist—or isn't in this world… he thought.
Arthur let out a light sigh.
"Alright. I'll take care of that pig-headed bastard," he said, as he drank the remainder of the wine in his glass.
He then continued:
"However, before that, there's some information I want you to give me."
Treyni's eyes sparkled.
"Of course! Ask whatever you like!" she replied enthusiastically.
---xXx---
At the edge of the Great Forest of Jura, a terrifying number of Majins had gathered. Creatures of different races, strengths, and appearances remained clustered together, yet none dared to take a single step forward. The vivid memory of the massacre that had occurred just days earlier still loomed like a heavy shadow over them all, stifling any attempt to advance.
Among this massive gathering was also the ogre tribe—or rather, what remained of the ogre tribe.
Suddenly, a man with dark blue hair stepped forward from the group. A single white horn protruded from his forehead, standing out against the dark hue of his hair. Without hesitation, he walked toward a red-haired young man wearing brown armor and carrying a katana at his waist. The man knelt respectfully before him.
"I bring the report, young master," he said seriously. "From the forest's edge all the way to the capital of Blumund, there are hundreds of dead monsters, as if—"
"As if they were killed instantaneously and simultaneously," completed an old man with white hair, his face deeply wrinkled and his eyes almost completely closed, as though he were always on the verge of sleep.
The red-haired youth, the tall man with the appearance of a classic ogre, the woman with purple hair and ample bosom, and the adorable-looking girl with two white horns were all completely stunned by those words.
How could someone kill so many monsters… instantly?
The red-haired youth turned his gaze toward the white-haired elder.
"Is it possible that a single person did this?"
The old man slightly opened his half-lidded eyes, and though his gaze was weary, it was sharp. His voice sounded gruff as he replied:
"Whether it was a single individual or an extremely well-organized army, I cannot say. But, young master… tell me, what comes to mind when you see this absurd number of Majin monsters trying to flee the forest?"
The answer was simple.
Survival is the most fundamental necessity of any living being.
Faced with the advance of an Orc army, even creatures completely devoid of intelligence would flee desperately, guided solely by their instinct to survive.
What would a human city be in the face of imminent death?
Nothing.
Unless the danger that city represented was far greater than the threat of the Orc army chasing them from behind.
The white-haired elder's words caused a deep sense of unease within the group.
If the city truly was more dangerous than the Orc army…
Then was the ogre tribe not destined to be completely annihilated?
Though no one dared to voice the question aloud, the red-haired youth could clearly see the confusion reflected in everyone's eyes around him.
They were waiting for him to make a decision.
He knew that.
He knew that from the moment he spoke, everyone would obey his orders without question.
Even if the chosen path led to a dead end.
But… could he really give such an order so easily?
His village had been destroyed by those despicable orcs. Out of all of them, only six survivors remained.
If he chose the wrong path once again, his tribe might simply cease to exist.
Damn it!
The red-haired youth took a deep breath and finally spoke:
"It's better for us to remain as we are for now rather than act rashly. Let's first choose a secluded place to settle. After that, we'll decide which path to take."
"Yes!"
"Understood!"
Choosing to advance was not necessarily the correct decision.
But choosing not to act did not necessarily mean being wrong either.
No one opposed the decision he made. There were no objections, no resistance.
They simply obeyed.
That was all.
As he observed the monsters gathered around them, the red-haired youth's eyes drifted into the distance, as though he were trying to see beyond the present moment.
To be honest, he still hadn't fully grasped the situation.
The ogre tribe was a renowned warrior race. Though small in number, it was among the most powerful races in the entirety of the Great Forest of Jura.
And yet… it had fallen before those filthy creatures.
Looking around, he could still make out many powerful beings among the Majins and monsters gathered there.
Even so, they had been forced to flee in total disarray by the Orc army.
And now they were frozen in place, hesitating before a mysterious and unknown entity.
The world had changed.
As for those goblins, already weak by nature… they would probably be exterminated soon.
To be honest, having grown up within the powerful ogre tribe, this was the first time the red-haired youth truly experienced the harsh realities of the world.
—xXx—
At the same time…
Arthur finally left the castle.
He had made it clear that he didn't want a farewell, and he also did not return to his childlike form, choosing to remain in his normal appearance. Because of that, no one truly recognized him as he departed, though some people looked at him strangely.
At the top of the city wall, Ellen—holding the Wind Staff that Arthur had given her before leaving—along with Kaval and Gido, were still completely incredulous.
"I still can't believe that handsome guy was Arthur…" Ellen said, gripping the staff tightly.
"I was surprised too," Kaval said. "Apparently, he kept that appearance until a Dryad asked for his help."
Kaval scratched the back of his neck, feeling a headache beginning to form. "This is really problematic…"
But then, something caught his attention.
"Ellen… why is your face so red?" he asked, frowning.
"It really is pretty red," Gido added. "Did you get sick or something?"
"N-no, it's not that… it's just… it's…" Ellen was completely embarrassed, the words simply wouldn't come out.
"What is it, Ellen? Just say it already!" Kaval insisted.
She took a deep breath, her face turning even redder, and finally confessed:
"It's just that… I changed clothes in front of him when he was still in that childlike appearance…"
"…"
"…"
The silence that followed was absolute.
(End of chapter)